


Tiny Power Bottom Steve Rogers: A Fisting Story

by sassbandit



Series: Power Bottom Steve 'verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Bottom Steve Rogers, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Finger Sucking, Fisting, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 23:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassbandit/pseuds/sassbandit
Summary: "Something else you wanted?" Bucky asked, his voice low and teasing. "Seems like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up while I was out."





	Tiny Power Bottom Steve Rogers: A Fisting Story

**Author's Note:**

> Content note: Bucky has been consuming alcohol prior to the events in the story, but not to the extent that it compromises consent or safety.

Steve looked up sharply at the sound of feet on the stairs, and set down his pencil on top of his open sketchbook. By the time Bucky opened the door Steve had crossed the room to meet him, grabbing his shirt-front and pulling him into their room.

"Hey, Stevie," Bucky laughed, loose and easy. "Missed me, huh?"

"Uh huh," Steve said, burying his face in Bucky's chest. Jesus, he smelled good - like whiskey and musk and just a faint scent of some gal's perfume. "Been waiting for you. Didja have a good time?"

Bucky put his arms around Steve and pulled him close. "Pretty good. You shoulda come with. Tommy had a win on the horses, bought drinks for the whole bar."

"Nah," Steve said. Sometimes he didn't mind watching Bucky laughing and flirting and shooting looks at him across the dance floor while he twirled some dame around, but tonight he'd just felt itchy in his own skin, like if he had to see Bucky's hands on anyone else he'd maybe do something stupid. Stupider than usual. So he'd sent him off with a dirty kiss, all tongue, and an admonition not to stay out too late. Bucky'd winked and swaggered out the door, leaving Steve to his own devices. 

"I had fun at home."

"Did you now?" Bucky drawled, and looked across at the table where Steve's sketchbook was lying open to a drawing of him. He'd been working on the shading of Bucky's hand, curled casually on his thigh as he sprawled across their hard old sofa.

"Not just that," Steve said with a private smile, still pressed against Bucky's chest, then schooled his expression before he tilted his face up to kiss Bucky, wet and deep. The flavour of whiskey was stronger on Bucky's mouth, and Steve breathed it in, wondering just how many Bucky'd had. He was relaxed and happy, for sure, and a little handsy, starting to grope at Steve's ass. Maybe he could guess what Steve'd been up to after all. It's not like that'd take much brain power.

Steve's hands were still caught against Bucky's chest, so without breaking their kiss he started working at his buttons and pushing his suspenders down off his shoulders, until his shirt was hanging loose from its tails. Steve shoved Bucky's undershirt up, baring his chest, then pulled away. Bucky's face was flushed, from the liquor or the warm night or the kissing or all three, and one corner of his mouth was quirked up in a half-smile. 

Steve smirked back at him, then ducked his head to Bucky's nipple, taking it lightly between his teeth, just enough to make Bucky gasp and lean back with a faint _thunk_ as his head hit the door. He was gonna make Bucky feel so good. He had a list, and this was the next thing on it: get Bucky off. Seemed like Bucky was onboard with that plan, judging by his response when Steve unbuttoned his pants and got his hand into Bucky's shorts, then dropped to his knees, trailing his mouth across Bucky's stomach and down the dark line of hair below his navel.

"Steve, Stevie," Bucky gasped as Steve licked up the shaft then wrapped his lips around the head of his cock. "Your mouth, baby. Your fuckin' mouth." Steve just hmmmed in response, leaning in with one hand firmly on Bucky's hips, holding him against the door, and the other, spit-slick, around the base of his cock. The weight of Bucky's cock and the silk-smoothness on Steve's tongue were intoxicating. He closed his eyes and settled in to enjoy it. 

Didn't take long to get Bucky murmuring sweet nonsense and running his hands through Steve's hair, tangling and pulling just a little, just enough. Jesus, Bucky's hands, always perfect. Steve wanted those hands, wanted them so much. Soon, he thought. This first.

He took a deep breath and sank deeper onto Bucky's cock, taking in all he could, willing himself not to cough. It's fine, he thought, breathing deeply through his nose, and the taste of Bucky's cock leaking on his tongue and the smell of him were enough to distract his stupid, stupid lungs because he _didn't_ cough, not once, until Bucky's hands clenched in his hair and he was coming over his tongue, and Steve pulled back and got half of it across his chin and his cheek.

Steve sat back on his heels and looked up through his lashes at Bucky's face, slack and contented, his eyes closed. Both of them were panting. Steve nudged Bucky's forearm with his head. "Hey," he said, his voice a little rough.

"Hey yourself," Bucky replied, lifting his head off the wall and focusing on Steve with a little effort. "Oh, hey, look at you." He let go of Steve's hair and touched his cheek, trailing his fingertips through the mess he'd made, then pushed them into Steve's mouth. "This what you wanted?"

Steve nodded emphatically, not letting go of Bucky's fingers. He sucked them and pushed his tongue between them, holding back a moan as Bucky added another finger, wet with come, and pressed them against his tongue. Bucky's hands… he wanted every bit of them, all of them. He pulled away just enough to switch his attention to Bucky's thumb, to biting the pad at the base of it, pressing his lips to Bucky's palm, to the pale place on his wrist, to his knuckles, before stretching his mouth again around four fingers, making them as wet and sloppy as he could.

"Something else you wanted?" Bucky asked, his voice low and teasing. "Seems like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up while I was out." Steve whined his assent, nodding with his mouth still full. "You want to get my hand nice and wet so I can wrap it around your dick, is that what you want, babydoll?" Steve shook his head emphatically. He was hard, but he didn't need that. He'd taken care of himself already, couldn't help himself. 

"Not that, huh? Well, maybe you'd better tell me what you do want," he teased gently, and pulled his fingers away, a string of saliva stretching between his fingertips and Steve's lips. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"Your hand," Steve gasped. "I want your hand in me." 

"You just been sittin' at home waiting for me, thinking about that? Thinking about my hand filling you up?" He traced his fingertips along Steve's jaw, ran his thumb over Steve's lower lip.

Steve knew he was blushing, could feel it halfway down his chest. "I got myself ready," he said. He'd spent an hour in the bathroom with an enema and a jar of vaseline, and he'd jerked himself off with three fingers up his ass before he pulled his pants and his shirt back on and scurried back to their room. He could feel the slickness of his hole when he shifted his weight. "Please," he said, "Please, I want it."

"You always want it," Bucky said fondly. "You'd spend all day with my hand up your ass if you could." 

Steve ducked his head and nodded, kissed his knuckles again. "Yeah," he admitted. It's not like Bucky didn't already know everything he wanted.

"Come on then." Bucky reached down and helped Steve up off his knees. Steve stumbled for a moment, pins and needles shooting down his legs from kneeling on the hard floor, and Bucky caught him by the arm and pulled him close. "I gotcha." He held Steve like they were dancing, and walked him backward across the room.

It only took a few moments to pull the mattress off Steve's bed onto the floor, and arrange their pillows right, while Steve shucked off his clothes. Bucky kicked his own shoes off, dropped his pants in a heap on the floor, then reached out and grasped Steve's hand, pulling him down onto the mattress. "Love you, sweetheart," he said, his mouth pressed against Steve's jaw. "Lay back." He helped get him comfortable, pulled a pillow under his hips and arranged his legs, spreading them so he could sit cross-legged between them, easy and relaxed. "Look at you." He smiled a soft smile, and Steve smiled back at him, stretching his arms up then lacing his hands behind his head. He knew he wasn't much to look at, but Bucky never made him feel that way. He felt beautiful, warm.

"Look at you, baby," Bucky said again, and stroked his big warm hands down the inside of Steve's thighs, just firm enough not to tickle, and up again. Then he stroked his fingers across the crease of Steve's ass, making Steve squirm and laugh. "You ready?"

"You know I am." 

"Sure about that?" Bucky said, and ghosted his fingertips over Steve's hole.

"Ffff— don't tease!" He squirmed, trying to follow the sensation, to get Bucky's fingers to press into him. He could feel his ass twitching, and he hoped Bucky was getting an eyeful.

"I just gotta make sure," Bucky smirked.

"Jerk."

"Call me names, you won't get this," Bucky said, and pressed into him. Just one finger. Steve tilted his hips, pressed forward, chasing it.

"Don't _be_ one, then. C'mon, Buck, c'mon." But Bucky just traced that one fingertip around Steve's hole, then up over his balls and along the length of his dick, around the head, teasing at the slit where Steve was starting to leak a little.

"Bucky," he whined, "C'mon." Bucky kept teasing, damn him. "I swear, Bucky, I'll never suck your dick again unless you –"

"Okay, okay, sheesh," Bucky laughed, giving him a little slap on the hip, and reached for the jar of Vaseline. "Your wish is my command."

Once he stopped teasing, Bucky was all business. He pushed straight in with two greasy fingers, then followed them with a third. Steve let out a sigh, pushed back against his hand. "Nice," Bucky said, rolling the word out slowly. "You're nice and open for me, baby." 

"Yeah," Steve breathed, relaxing into it. "More?" Bucky's fingers were bigger than Steve's own, but three fingers wasn't that much of a stretch, and he was ready for it, more than ready for it. He'd been ready for it for hours. Bucky just quirked an eyebrow and pulled his hand back, twisting, trailing his the tip of his pinky around Steve's ring before he sank four fingers into him.

"That good?" Bucky asked, and Steve nodded wordlessly, feeling himself open and settle around Bucky's fingers. Bucky stroked his other hand over Steve's thigh, then grasped his knee, gently pushing it up and outward. "Yeah," he said, and twisted his hand in Steve's ass, pulling back a little. "That's good. You're good, Stevie." 

Steve could hear the slippery sounds of Bucky's fingers, and he closed his eyes and concentrated on that for a moment, and on the feel of it as Bucky started to fuck him deep and slow down to the palm of his hand. He felt a little stretch, a little burn, for just a moment before the sliding slickness of it took over, and the sensation of Bucky's fingertips brushing inside him. Bucky turned his hand, varying the angle to open Steve up in every direction, and Steve moved for him, spread himself open, letting go of his tension with a soft moan.

"You're so good, baby, so good," Bucky said, and crooked his fingers up, pressing into Steve in a way that made him jump and open his eyes wide.

"Don't –" he squeaked, actually squeaked. "Not yet. I can't."

"Okay, okay." Bucky uncurled his fingers, twisted them smoothly the other way. 

"Just," Steve murmured, settling down. "Just keep doin' that. God, Bucky."

"How's it feel, baby?" Bucky asked.

"So good. So good, Buck. I wanna… I wanna take it all, but this feels so good. It… it stretches. Stretches so good."

"You tell me if you're hurting."

"Not hurting. It's good. I want… I can take more. Please."

Bucky shook his head, but didn't stop with his hand. "I _know_ you, Rogers. I know you don't know when to stop. Someone's gotta look out for your dumb ass."

Steve laughed, then caught his breath as the laughter made him clench. "You don't gotta look out for my ass, Bucky," he said. "That's not what you gotta do with my ass. My ass is fine." He pushed his ass toward Bucky, lifting up off the pillow, just to demonstrate.

"Christ Jesus," Bucky said, as Steve rode his fingers, fucking himself down on them then pulling away with each thrust of his hand. "You tell me. You tell me if it hurts." Then finally, finally he slid his thumb in beside his fingers, and Steve wriggled, trying to draw him in. "Hey, hey, shhh, I gotcha." Bucky rested his other hand on Steve's hip, holding him, stroking him gently until he settled back onto the pillow. "Just… let me. I'll look after you, Stevie. You just… you tell me, alright. If it's too much."

Steve nodded, and made himself relax again. Breathed in, out. Loosened his muscles, unclenched his shoulders and rolled them, then unlaced his fingers from behind his head. "Buck," he said, reaching out, and Bucky grasped his hand. "'Kay. I'm good."

"So good," Bucky confirmed. 

Steve felt the burn like a fire across his skin, every inch of his body sparking with it. Bucky's thumb was pressing into him, the full girth of his fist stretching him open, and Steve felt like he might burn right up. He caught himself panting, and let out a long shuddery sigh. Bucky pulled back, turned his hand, and pressed in again, slowly, inexorably, and Steve breathed with it, forced himself to let go, to melt into the heat. Bucky leaned toward him, then with a sudden twinge that made Steve gasp and cry out, he was past the knuckle, sinking in suddenly up to the wrist.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph." He felt so full, so light and so heavy at the same time, burning and shivering like a fever. His breath was coming fast and shallow, and he could feel his ass clenching and twitching around Bucky's hand, fuck, his whole hand in Steve's ass. Every time, every time they did this it felt so strange and yet so fucking perfect.

"Steve, hey, Stevie," Bucky said, and Steve realised Bucky was squeezing his other hand tight. "Look at me, baby. Yeah. Are you good?"

"So good." Bucky was looking at him with an expression of wonder on his face. Steve felt his own face doing something in return, he couldn't even tell what, but it made Bucky light up so it must be good. "Feels so good," he said, again. 

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, and it sounded like – it sounded like all the love in the world. Maybe Steve's heart was bursting, maybe that's what was happening inside him, because he was falling apart. And then Bucky moved inside him, moved his fingers, just a gentle ripple that he felt right from his toes to his hair follicles.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve said, high and breathy, just to make Bucky _keep_ doing it. God, he never wanted him to stop. Then Bucky turned his hand and brushed against that place that made Steve's brain explode, and okay, _now_ he was really falling into a thousand pieces. But Bucky didn't let up, just kept moving his hand in minuscule thrusts, setting up a rhythm and pulling at Steve's rim, stretched so tight, each time he pulled back. 

Steve was pretty sure time moved different with Bucky's hand up his ass. It felt like it was stretching out forever, always, no way to tell if it was minutes or seconds or hours, except that Bucky was fucking him deeper now, his fist sliding halfway out of Steve's hole before he plunged back in. He twisted his hand a different way and suddenly Steve needed – he needed –

"Buck, Bucky, Bucky!" 

Bucky laughed, tight and a little hysterical, as Steve pulled both their hands over to his dick, desperate from some friction. Bucky didn't let go, just laced his fingers in with Steve's and followed his lead. Bucky's other hand tilted and twisted inside him, relentless, and fuck, _fuck_ , it was like being hit by a freight train. Steve came so hard his vision whited out.

He came back to himself to find Bucky frozen, nothing moving but the rise and fall of his chest and his hair falling in his eyes. "Jesus, Stevie," he said. "I think maybe you broke something. No, no," he reassured, as Steve whimpered. "I just… your ass. My hand ain't gonna be the same for a week."

"Neither's my ass," Steve laughed, breathlessly, then winced.

"I'm gonna…" Bucky pulled out as gently as he could, but Steve shuddered, too sensitive. "Hey, hey, it's okay," Bucky said, quickly grabbing a cloth to wipe his hand, and clean up the come all over Steve's stomach and chest. He crawled up and wrapped himself around Steve, half lying on top of him, holding him tight. "You're amazing," he said, pressing the words into Steve's shoulder. "So fucking amazing."

Steve pulled his knees together and rolled on his side, letting Bucky spoon behind him. He was shivering. It wasn't cold, he was just overwhelmed, every nerve stripped raw. Bucky reached for a blanket and pulled it over them both, and Steve clung to his arm, shaking like he might break apart. "It's okay, babydoll," Bucky murmured. "You're so good. I've got you. Take all the time you need."

* * *

Bucky was up and dressed, ready for work, when Steve returned from the bathroom the next morning. He greeted Steve with a cocky grin. "Mornin', beautiful," he said. 

"Mornin' yourself." Steve sat down at the table, a little gingerly, but couldn't help smiling. Bucky handed him a cup of joe and a slice of bread with jam on it. The sun was pouring in through the open window, and Steve could hear all the sounds of the neighborhood filtering up from the street. He realised suddenly that he was ravenous. Bucky handed him another slice of bread when he finished the first. "This Mrs. Callahan's preserves?" he asked, mouth full.

"Good, ain't they?" Bucky leaned against the cupboard, hip cocked, forearms bare where he'd rolled up his shirt sleeves. "So, you got plans today?"

Steve pretended to think it over. "Might just take it easy," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, you look beat. You have a rough night or something?"

"Could say that. Some jerk wore me out."

"Punk," Bucky said fondly, and reached over to ruffle his hair. "I gotta go." He leaned down and kissed Steve gently, then brushed his thumb over Steve's lower lip. "I'll see you tonight. Don't do anything stupid till I get back."

"Pretty sure you're taking all the stupid with you."

Bucky winked, and grabbed his cap. When he was gone, Steve leaned out the window and watched Bucky's swagger till he turned the corner.

His sketchbook was still on the table. He sat down again, turned to a new page, and didn't even pretend he was going to draw anything other than Bucky's hands.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://sassbandit3000.tumblr.com) if you want to follow me.


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